The Art of Avenging
by BADheartlit
Summary: Follow the story of Elizabeth DeHart as she has strange abilities forced upon her, strange events happening all around her, and strange feelings within her. Join her in the adventure of becoming an Avenger, learning her newfound powers and what's really in the hearts of her fellow Avengers. Read on as she tries to find out who she is, and how to stay true to herself.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

My story began when I was born. However, it really only got interesting when the aliens attacked New York a couple years ago. You see, I was never a very interesting person. I grew up in the Seattle area, moved to Olympia later on, lived a mundane budding artist's life. Graduated both High school and college, passing grades. After that, unfortunately, my life had become so busy that I really couldn't focus on my artistic side of story-telling talent much. I was still living with my parents, when my cousin in New York offered up a space for rent. There was a job waiting for me when I got there: Janitorial work at the local food market. Not the greatest, but it could've been worse. Minimum wage jobs aren't exactly easy, and I could barely pay rent, but I was content in New York. The people, the places, and, man, food is great there. Reminded me of my Seattle-ite roots, so nostalgia was probably a pretty big factor too.

Every morning when I woke up, before the sun had even risen, I'd throw open the curtains, and gaze up at the skyline for a few precious moments. From my apartment, I could see the bustling downtown area close on the horizon. The Empire state building had a great glint of sun on its windows in the evening, and sometimes if I leaned in the right direction I could see the Stark tower. Once on the day to work, I swear I heard the incredible Iron Man fly by a few blocks down. He was a great public figure. All of the Avengers are, though they weren't called that at that point.

I was pretty happy with my life. I whistled while I worked, and had an uncanny spring in my step. But... something was missing. That part of my life that had taken the back burner... my art. Sure, I'd get a few minutes here and there to spend some time doodling, and I was slowly making my way through a series of graphic novels, but by the time I got home I was usually tuckered out. It was disappointing to say the least.

And then the aliens attacked. It was a pleasant day outside, and I'd been listening to the Canadian Tenors on my iPod, when the strangest blast noise I'd ever heard knocked over about five aisles, all sorts of products spilling to the floor. Oddly enough, the first dread that occurred to me was all the cleaning I'd have to do. And then it hit me. Literally. A blast sent some poor guy flying right into me, knocking me back a couple feet. He was pretty damn dead. Some people might think it strange that I didn't scream, but I've never been the most verbal of people. I've had scrapes and bruises where I wouldn't make a sound, mostly out of shock. So, I kept my cool, and kept it in. But man, I was _terrified_.

One might think the most logical course of action would be to run for the closest exit, but in my quiet frenzied state, I of course dived for the collapsed aisles, hoping for a hiding spot. At this point, people were screaming hysterically. I'm pretty sure I even saw a few people steal some groceries. One of them turned a corner with a stolen loaf of bread and was instantly blasted back by another gang of aliens.

How many aliens were there? I think I heard later on that there were around 12,000 aliens total. It's a good thing they all died the instant that nuke went off in space. Talk about convenient, am I right?

Either way, there I was. Cowering beneath an aisle rack, surrounded by the debris of the make-up aisle, plastic containers and powders everywhere. Who knew make-up could make such a mess? I could hear more and more people running, screaming, falling to the ground. I saw alien feet scrabble across the now slick floor tiles. It didn't even cross my mind at how absurd it was that aliens were attacking. I was so used to the fantastic in my imagination that I gratefully accepted it. Not that it was good, it was just my immediate response.

Suddenly the screaming stopped. My breath refused to escape my lungs, lest I be discovered. A few aliens were standing around, communicating in some strange, garbled language. Something felt wrong. Shouldn't they be going on to rampage the next storefront? Suddenly a burst of gunshot exploded through the air, and the aliens collapsed. All I could see from where I hid were the black pointed shoes of some official sounding people. At-least they were humans.

But I remained quiet. Something was still wrong. I couldn't quite hear them, but I could see that they were observing the dead aliens. Somehow this was even scarier than the aliens. I listened for a few moments, but it was as if they didn't want to be heard. If felt like there were cotton balls stuffed up my ears. I felt like I was going to be sick.

All of a sudden, somebody was rushing over to where I was, a few others lifting the aisle rack from above me. I scrambled out, grateful for the help. But right as I was about to thank them and ask some questions, one of them pointed a gun at me.

And fired.

When I woke up, I found myself in a hospital room. At, least, that's what it looked like. I was in my work uniform, on a hospital bed without the blanket. Something was hooked up to my veins. A group of people surrounded me, looking at me, almost expectantly. I had the strangest feeling in my head. It was like, tendrils of my mind were escaping through cracks in my skull, but not as painful as a cracked skull would be.

Looking around, turning my head towards the people, they gasped. I didn't know why at the time, but apparently it had looked like my head exploded. It didn't, by the way, explode, but they were just as shocked as I when I saw particles of light escape my fingertips. Looking back at them, I only had one thing to say.

"What did you do to me?"

They never really answered that question, but for the next two years, I was confined in some crazy lab. They pumped me with chemicals, talked to me and asked me questions. It wasn't that bad, to be honest. I mean, considering that all of a sudden I could think of a bird and there was suddenly a bird flying around my head, I was pretty well adjusted. What they did explain to me was this: I was chosen. I had the imagination of my old self still-intact, though somewhat suppressed through the stresses of growing up, and I had an above average IQ to back that up. I had good morals, went to church, tried to be a good person. In their eyes, I was perfect.

Obviously, the sudden superpowers was a shock, and honestly they weren't really all that super. Still aren't. All I can do is create illusions. I suppose the power of illusion can be pretty powerful, but it definitely isn't flying or super strength. I had a few embarrassing illusions leak out in a training sessions, and someone told me that I'd been sleepwalking in illusions everyone could see. That was different. I didn't really care for the restriction of my personal self, but I guess looking back, I can understand. I needed the training to keep a low profile. But the least they could've done was let me have a phone call or a visit to my parents. They were definitely worried sick about me.

But suddenly, everything changed. Of course, I'd heard about what the Avengers had done on the other side of the globe. But what with the Hulk missing, things getting sketchy between a few of the 'vengers, and newcomers on the scene, the last thing I'd expected was a visit from _them._

It had been a lazy day for me. I was lying on my bed, swirling tiny galaxies of light with my fingertips above my head. The door to my room opened, a rarity on my off-days. Two men stepped in, one with a black suit and tie, the other a black trench coat sort of thing. And an eyepatch.

"Elizabeth DeHart," The eyepatch guy said, stunning me. "We're here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative."

I was dumbstruck. As calm and collected as I could make myself, I sat up on the edge of my bed, looking at them with a furrowed brow. Although honestly, my face probably looked completely blank. Facial expressions are hard for me.

"Uh, what about it?" Great first words to some super important people, both of whom should've been dead.

The one in the suit smiled. "I think you know, Beth," He almost chuckled, glancing at the galaxies and birds floating around my head.

I smiled. I was going to be an Avenger.


	2. Chapter 1 The Gang's all Here?

**Chapter 1~ The Gang's all Here?**

Natasha Romanoff stood in front of me, arms akimbo, facial expression stony as ever. I was sweating where I stood, in the center of the expansive training room, high ceiling making me feel vulnerable in the open. Her orders were not easy, everything considered. The woman was terrifying, even if I knew she was on my side. I replayed her orders in my head, trying to think of something fast.

" _Make me flinch, and we're done with training."_

Oh man, this was going to be a long training session.

"Well? I'm waiting."

"I-I'm sor-" The look she gave me shut me up. She kept telling me to stop apologizing, pointing out that the next aliens that attack won't care if I'm sorry. I took a deep breath. Closed my eyes, shutting out visual stimuli. Reminded myself that I was an Avenger. I was special. I can do this. She's only trying to help me become better. I opened my eyes, and out of habit took a fighting stance even though we weren't at the physical defense stage yet.

The first illusion I tried was the exploding head, trying to imagine and construct every piece of gore I could. Brains, bone, blood, eyes, you know… gross stuff like that. No reaction. Figures, she's likely dealt with some bloody situations in her time. Wouldn't have surprised me.

The second and third tries were pretty pointless too. They were just a couple explosions engulfing the entire training area. I wondered if anyone outside could see the illusion through the large windows. Of course she wasn't going to fall for that, she knew it was fake. Not to mention she also probably dealt with explosions on a regular basis.

And so it went. I used everything from swarms of bees to Godzilla tearing the place apart, but she refused to budge, eyes boring into me. It was as if they were saying 'You can do better than that'. When we had finished, it was dark outside.

"Alright, that's enough of that," She said, as I tried a last feeble attempt at an explosion.

"But..." I sighed, massaging my temples. "Ok." Pretty disappointed in myself, I let it go.

"Make sure you make time to practice, DeHart. You're not going to get any better if your only practice is when we meet." I nodded, wondering if she could tell I felt a little down. No doubt she did. I imagined that she could tell what everybody was thinking, but instead of doing anything about it she'd make mental notes and file them away in her brain for future use. She seemed like that kind of person, although I didn't know her at all.

Just as I was about head through the doors, Natasha stopped me, a hand on my shoulder. Nearly scared the shit outta me, but I knew she didn't mean any harm. To my surprise she cracked a small smile. She almost looked amused.

"Remember to think outside the box, DeHart. When you have time, try to study psychology, and try picking up on little nervous ticks and behavior. It could be a huge advantage once you make it to the field."

I returned the smile, wiping away a lock of brown hair. "Thanks. I'll look into, Agent Romanoff."

We parted ways in silence, striding in opposite directions down the building's wide hallways. Why were they so wide? There really weren't that many people here. A handful of heroes, and a slightly larger handful of Shield Agents and Faculty. Agent Romanoff was both. What must it be like to be Black Widow? She was always so mysterious and hard-faced, but it seemed that there was something Captain America knew. They always seemed somewhat comfortable in each other's presence, although I'd never seen them being unprofessional.

Stretching as I strolled into the common area that connected the personal living quarters, I flumped onto the big couch that sat opposite a large screen that passed for a TV. It was currently playing live news reports. One of the Agents had told me that Tony Stark had a pretty big influence in the technology used, and it showed. So much of the technology was incredibly advanced, and I could barely even comprehend how a lot of it worked. Everything had a weird blue aura about it, and instead of an electrical buzz, an almost soothing ring filled the halls. It was all beyond me, but I'd never been a huge 'techie' person anyway.

Fortunately, I knew how to work the TV.

Before you could say "Nick Fury's dead," the remote was in my hand, and I was flicking through the channels, bored. Believe it or not, I'd done a lot of TV watching since I'd started living here. Not the best choice, but when you've done nothing but run around a track and create illusions all day, it's nice to veg out once in awhile. It just so happens that for me, vegging out happened a lot more than once in awhile. What can I say? Crime dramas captivate my attention. It's a hell of a lot more fun than running laps, doing push ups, and mental stimulation.

The flash of a hand grabbing the remote made me look away for long enough that I failed to notice the TV returning to it's regular spot. Wanda looked down at me in amusement, eyebrow raised.

"Oh come on!" I protested, reaching for the remote. She did her weird telekinetic power thing, remote drifting just out of my reach. "I just got done with training!"

"That's what you said yesterday. And the day before that, and the day before-" I made a lung for the remote, but she stepped aside, smiling. "Beth, please. I think you can go one day without binge-watching Criminal Minds." She paused, then added, "Nerd."

Huffing and rolling my eyes, I relented my fruitless pursuit. I rested my arms on the back of the couch. "Okay, what do you suggest I do in my free time? I'm so ready to not think."

She shrugged, remote returning to her hand. "Maybe try drawing? I know you like to do that. Besides, isn't it your entire job to think? Maybe try some puzzles. We could play a game of chess?" She offered, gesturing to a glass table in the kitchen area. A stack of games sat on top.

I sat back down on the couch, turning away from her. "I don't know. I'm not feeling inspired right now. How many times have we played chess in the last week?"

"24, unless you count the game you didn't finish," The Vision said, strolling into the room. He looked down at me. "And Wanda is right, you should be experimenting with your mind's abilities."

I groaned. "Not you too, Vizzie." I stood up, crossing my arms. "Look, I've already figured out my mind's limits and what I can and cannot do. Mental exercises aren't gonna do much for me."

Vision and Wanda glanced at each other.

"What?" There was a pause before they started barraging me with questions.

"Do you know if your abilities affect electronics like cameras?"

"What is the greatest distance your abilities have effect?"

"How do your powers work?"

"Why do you sleepwalk?"

"How much of what you actually see is illusion?"

"How do you hold the illusions back?"

"What-"

"Alright, alright!" I yelled, getting the point. "I'll work on it. But I need a break."

Vision smiled his strange sort of amused smile. "Good, because I came in here to inform the two of you that Mr. Stark will be arriving shortly. I expect he wants to meet you formally."

"Me? Oh. _Oh!_ " The thought of meeting Iron Man completely surprised me. Of course, I've always been a little starstruck when it comes to superheroes, and meeting all these icons was a surprise, but I had yet to meet several of the heroes. "Are we going to meet him now? Should I get changed? Ack, give a girl some warning before she's going to meet an iconic figure!" I yelled, running to my room to get a jacket.

Five minutes later, the lot of us were standing at attention out front, Captain America and Romanoff nearby, speaking to each other in hushed tones. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed pretty serious. The stars shone above us, brilliant lights in the middle of nowhere. Night birds sounded in the nearby expanse of forest, out in the dark, inky wilderness. We stood in a circle of lights, leading to a long driveway piercing through the night. Remnants of the day's summer heat lifted off the asphalt, making us comfortable and warm.

"What's Iron Man like?" I whispered to Wanda beside me. She smiled, the familiar amused glint in her eye. I barely noticed a pang of sorrow in her face at the mention of the celebrity hero, but I _did_ notice it. I felt a little bad, but my curiosity overrode everything.

"You've asked me about everyone here, Beth. What makes you think I know anything more than you? Besides, I think my opinion of him is… biased."

Okay, now I felt bad. I winced. "Oh. Right. I, uh… sorry."

She half-shrugged it off, but I could still sense some uneasiness in her posture.

"Maybe you'd be better off asking Vision."

"Yeah, what about it, Vizz? What's the Iron Man like?" I said, leaning around Wanda.

He shrugged. "I believe he has good intentions."

"Yeah, but-" The sound of tires on road moving closer interrupted my frustration. I fell back to my position, realizing I was yet again starstruck. It'd been worse meeting Captain America, but man, I just have always loved superheroes.

Of course, the car was a dazzling red. Mr. Stark sure liked red. Made sense. I'd read somewhere that red was the color of confidence, strength, and energy. Certainly described him. At least, what I'd heard of him.

His car was probably going a bit too fast when he stopped, but who knows how many changes he'd made to it technologically, so it worked fine. He stepped out, wearing shades for some reason, along with a stone-gray suit.

"How goes 'Team 'Merica?'" He said, striding up to Steve and Natasha. "Good to see everything's ship-shape. Cap, Romanoff." They shook hands. He seemed a little wary of the Vision, but not for long, giving him a pat on the shoulder. He gave Wanda a brief nod, knowing her feelings towards him and her abilities. When he greeted me, he lifted an eyebrow.

"New blood, huh? So this is the rookie I've been hearing about. What's the name, kid?"

I was a little flustered at his abruptness, but I responded in an instant. "Elizabeth DeHart, uh, sir." I stuck out my hand on a whim. God I'm such a mess, I thought when he seemed a little surprised by my action.

"Sir? You been teaching her by military standards, Steve?" He shook my hand heartily, a cocky smile on his face. "Nice to meet ya, Liz." He turned to address everyone. "Now, let's get inside. I've got some news."

We sat around an oval table that was way too large for six people, the Stark-blue hologram-screens appearing to levitate in the center. The room was window-less, seeming dark but we could all see fine. A strange feeling of secrecy hung in the air. I sat next to Wanda, who was sipping at a mug of tea. Across the table, The Vision sat, back straight as a rod, but not uncomfortable. Somewhere in the walls the technology was ringing, pulsing ever so slightly. Captain America, Black Widow, and Iron Man sat in their chairs on the sharper curve of the table, almost as if they were trying to share being at the head.

"Alright, who's ready for something big?" Tony said, flicking a semi-transparent rectangular field to the center, blowing it up so we could all see. A map appeared, a red dot with waves radiating off of it in the center. Immediately Natasha and Steve sat up.

"Someone sent me these coordinates. Don't know who, don't know how. But when my satellites checked them out, I found a surprising amount of… gamma radiation."

"Where is this located?" Steve said.

"Hold onto your trousers. The coordinates put us somewhere in Iran. Looks like complete wilderness, but there are a few villages just on the other side of some hills."

"So what does this mean? What's our next move?" Wanda said, a dubious look arching her eyebrow.

"It means that someone's either wanting to help us or hinder us," Natasha said. "What we do next is what we decide tonight."

"It would be crazy to not check it out," Tony said, fiddling with a pen. "But sending bots out of nowhere might cause some rioting if they're spotted."

"But if it's an ambush, we'd have to deal with some sort of Hydra agents at best," Steve pointed out.

"...Unless they have something we don't know about," Natasha said.

There was a brief silence. Should I be listening? Obviously I was _way_ unprepared for a mission like this, but being an Avenger meant being a part of the team. Listening and stuff.

"But what if it is just someone trying to help? We wouldn't want to overpower or intimidate them," Steve said.

"...Assuming intimidation is an option. Whoever sent me that message certainly knew what they were doing. I haven't been able to track anything back to the sender."

"Perhaps we could wait, and see if you receive another message. If they believe it's really important, they could try to contact you again," The Vision noted. He seemed to be considered a more important part of the team than Wanda and I. Even if he was technically the youngest, his powers and his morals were simultaneously more mature and innocent than anyone in the room. It made sense, it was just a little infuriating that I (well, more like Wanda and I) were going up against that. Not that it was a contest…

"We might have to try that… but if they don't contact me within the next 14 days, we're going to have to do something."

"Maybe the three of us could go check it out," Natasha suggested, indicating herself, Tony, and Steve. "...After the twenty day waiting period."

"Why not have Vision come along?" Steve asked.

"I'm afraid I'd stick out. If we had to traverse through a town or a city, I would be easily identified as inhuman and dangerous."

"Alright, it's a date," Tony said, leaning back in his chair, clapping his hands together. "Class dismissed!"

"Hey, we still need to keep everyone in shape. DeHart, Maximoff, Vision… when we're gone, you will continue training as usual. But try working together."

"I agree with Steve. It's about time you three tried collaborating. In fact, we'll start collaboration tomorrow," Natasha said. "More detailed instructions will be given to you upon our departure."

"... _Now_ class dismissed!" Tony said, smirking.


	3. Chapter 2 Practice Makes Progress

**Chapter 2~ Practice makes Progress**

The next morning I was awakened by the flash of dream remnants. I'd just had the most lovely dream of flying, but upon waking a few clouds and blue skies hung in my room. I groaned, closing my eyes, trying to collect the illusion back into my groggy head. When I was this tired I had to really focus on the collection, drawing in my energy and focusing on reality. I opened my eyes, and was satisfied that I had finished in so short a time period. I turned over in my bed with a grumble, facing the high ceilings. Slapping the wall next to me, a blue rectangle appeared, and the lights reverse-faded on. I sensed a murmur in the air as more and more technological thingamabobs turned on. My room was pretty big. It was more of a small apartment or a hotel room. There was a bathroom by the door, a desk by the window, and a futon bed adjacent to the window. I had a few sleek white shelves covered in books and sticky-notes (I often had to remind myself of little things and ideas I came up with), and an old 'Anne of Green Gables' theatrical poster hung on my wall.

Slumping out of bed, I pressed another part of the wall with my finger, and a panel moved out and over, revealing my closet. My closet didn't have much in it- I was never that interested in clothes. I've always been amused by the fact that some girls would probably keel over if they discovered I only owned three pairs of shoes.

I picked out my clothes for today (a white tank top with black sweatpants), and headed to the shower, where I almost fell asleep again. I would have fallen asleep if not for the alarm I set, that told me that it was time to get out. Time's always been a semi-abstract thing for my mind to comprehend, so I'd gotten into the habit of setting alarms for everything. _Everything._

Cold water dribbled from my face after an attempt to wake myself up more failed. ' _Guh, why am I always so tired?_ ' I thought, stretching my arms above my head, slumping into my clothes. A headband popped my short-ish hair into place. I hadn't thought much about getting a haircut, but I would for sure need one soon. I liked my hair short.

Out in the commons area, I poured a pack of instant oatmeal into a bowl, splashed some water on top, and slammed it into the microwave. About a minute passed before I took the bowl out and stared at it for a second, a sneer upon my face.

"I don't even like oatmeal. Why did I make oatmeal?" I couldn't help but point out my absurdity outloud. Maximoff walked in, casually dressed, tying her long brown hair into a pony.

"That's the second time this week, Beth," She said, pulling a box of cereal from the nearby cupboards.

I suppressed a yawn. "I know! I don't know what I'm thinking." A dollop of brown sugar was mixed into the gray slurry along with some raisins. Wasn't about to throw it away, but… ew.

Plopping down at the island with bar stools, I munched on the gritty sludge and peeked through my bible. I wasn't the most avid bible-reader, but I did want to keep my morals in check, and that was the best way I knew how.

"Hey, Wanda… Do you think the Vision eats? I've never seen him do anything in here."

She shrugged, Frosted Wheaties being consumed at an alarmingly slow rate. "I think he has the ability, but it's unnecessary for him to eat."

Low voices spoke from the TV as usual, reporting weather and highlighting anything major in the area. No one paid attention to them, unless there was something super important happening. Even then, I wasn't involved much and didn't _need_ to listen to any of it. Out in the hallway, through the glass doors, Shield agents wandered. Some of the newer ones would glance eagerly in here to catch a glimpse of the new heroes of America. I'd only talked to a few of them since I'd been here, but stopped trying because they seemed like they were pretty busy, or overly starstruck. What did they do here? What sort of work did they do? I imagined that they kept eyes on us, managed security, kept everything else in order… but there were still a decent amount of them to be doing more than just that. Another one of those things that I just couldn't care enough to fathom. _Maybe they live here and watch movies all day._

Wanda snorted, milk dripping out her nose. I rolled my eyes, setting my spoon down with a _clink_.

"Oh my gosh, _Wan. Da_. You have got to stop reading my mind. At least while you're eating," I said, smirking as she wiped her face with a napkin.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But seriously… _movies?_ All day?"

"Do you have a better explanation?"

"Maybe something having to do with money? Artillery? Weapons? Those are things you Americans like," She said.

"Oh, come on. Not all Americans are like that."

"Yeah, I know, I know. You like drawing and storytelling. At least, that's what I've heard you say. I don't see you draw ever."

Sighing, I stood up to put my bowl in the dishwasher. Believe it or not, they had a dishwasher. Just a regular dishwasher. "It's different now that I have these… abilities. Instead of drawing I just have to think of something."

"It's good mental stimulation though. You really should try to be more artistic."

I didn't say anything. I knew she was right but… I just didn't feel the need to draw anymore! It was regrettable, but I was a superhero now. I didn't need to draw, I needed to save the day. I'd miss my characters, but maybe someday someone else would pick up where I'd left off. I no longer had to design characters or come up with stories. And that was that.

"I don't have any inspiration, Wanda." It was an excuse, and she could probably see right through it- literally. But instead of pointing it out, she tried to be helpful.

"You could experiment with painting… or cooking? I know you've tried to cook things before."

"Tried?" It was my turn to arch an eyebrow.

"Hey, that cake you made was fine. It was just, you know… a mix. Why not try something from scratch sometime?"

I shrugged. "My sister was always more of the baker-"

" _Attention Avengers,_ " An automated voice sounded throughout the air, stopping our conversation. " _Please report to Training Room 3b for today's session_."

"Aw man, right now? We just ate."

Training Room 3b was similar to the others: very large, with very high ceilings. In 3b, however, there were no windows. There were no special markings on the floor. There were no rules in 3b… besides rule number one: Don't kill each other. Tony, Natasha, and Steve stood on a balcony looking down at us, whispering to each other. Vision, Wanda, and I stood casually in a circle at the far end of the room, Wanda and Vizz chatting idly. I wasn't sure why Vision wasn't up there with them. He didn't need training… did he? I mean, heck, Wanda didn't need training either. I was the one who needed help. They'd both helped fight and win the battle with the weird robots on the other side of the world. What had I been doing? Probably watching TV in my cell in a crazy science lab.

I'd never been in a fight. I didn't punch people, or roundhouse kick people, or stab people. I ran from people. Of all the non-confrontational people in the world, I am one of the few that got superpowers. Go figures. I really hoped we weren't fighting today.

"Today, we've prepared some obstacles," Steve said, magnificent voice projecting through the entire room. I silently praised the Lord. _No fighting!_ "You three have to work together to get through them. We'll come back in an hour to check on you."

Natasha spoke up. "And remember: Don't kill each other."

Tony laughed as they walked through a door. We looked at each other in anticipation. Where were the obstacles? What were they? I had a tiny panic attack, waiting. In reality, we only stood there for a few seconds, but man it felt like forever. With a loud scraping _Ssssss-chunk!_ metal walls shot up from the floor, orb-like bots zooming through holes in the wall that no longer existed. An automated voice sounded from the intercom.

" _Avoid detection and make your way to the other side of the room. Once you reach the desired destination, all three of you must press the designated panels._ " A synthetic beep sounded. " _Begin._ "

Before you could utter "Mjolnir's Mad," We were off. Well… they were. Vision was gliding through the air above the bots, and Wanda was having little difficulty sneaking around them. I was still standing where I was in shock. What was _I_ supposed to do? I didn't even know how the bots worked, much less if my powers would affect them. Taking a tentative step forward, I imagined someone walking in front of one of the bot's view. It sent out an alarm, more bots following it. They couldn't do much to the illusion, considering it was just an illusion, but that didn't stop them. Small, funny-looking little arms sprung from the bots' undersides trying to grab the illusion. It's a good thing they weren't heat-sensitive, or else they wouldn't have fallen for it. I smirked as they ended up grabbing each other, and dashed towards a bend in the sudden hall. Pausing, I wondered how this was 'working together'. We weren't really collaborating. At all. Maybe we were building up to that. I had no clue, but I trusted the other's judgement.

Either way, turning the corner I was surprised by a bot, who sent up an alarm.

"Eep!" I covered my head with my hands, imagining invisibility. The alarm stopped, and the bot floated by, somewhat confused. Believe it or not, trying to imagine invisibility is pretty difficult. At least, keeping the illusion going is difficult. I have to think about every little movement so that I can mask my entire body. If I don't focus on everything I do, the illusion might fade or something might stick outside the range of the illusion. Needless to say, the instant there were no bots in sight, I let the illusion go, feeling it suck back into my mind. A pang at my temples was regular, but I was out of practice. This was going to hurt later.

I ran a few more steps, peeking around a corner this time. Only one bot to avoid, but there were stairs here. This time I put a dark void around the bot. Bad idea. It began going crazy, and I couldn't keep the illusion around it. I let the illusion go, putting the invisibility on me as I waited for it to calm down. I held my breath. Where were the others? Had they already made it to the panels? I felt a sense of social dread at the thought. Gosh, I was so _slow!_ I was beginning to regret not training more in my freetime.

I made an illusion of someone moving beneath the stairs, and the bot went for it. Making a run for it I failed to notice the red light of a bot rounding the corner at the top of the stairs. By the time I noticed it, it was too late. I was so surprised by the alarm I let go of the illusion beneath the stairs, stumbling up the stairs before they could get me. One of them grabbed my headband before I managed to turn invisible.

Reprimanding myself for not focusing enough, I walked forward at a slow pace. _Maybe I should just stay invisible. It would take awhile but it would be safer…_ No, I couldn't do that. I couldn't make the others wait forever while I shuffled through this maze at the speed of my grandma. Not very superhero-y anyways. Taking a breath, I leaned against a wall. I collected the invisibility illusion, another twinge at my temples, hoping there were not bots around the corner.

"Okay, Beth, get creative. There's got to be an easier way to do this. C'mon, _think_ …" I closed my eyes, trying to get my creative juices flowing. _Flow…_ I opened my eyes again, and it appeared that water was rushing through the hallway, up to my chest. No alarms went off. Triumphant, I ducked under the water, semi-crouch-running to where I needed to go. Every instinct told me to hold my breath, and that I was feeling wet, but I knew intellectually

A few more twists and turns later, I found Wanda trying to avoid the clutches of the bots.

"Wanda! Duck under the water! It isn't real," I said. She did so, looking a little green around the gills. I had to admit, breathing under water is a little disorienting.

"Did you have to use water?" She asked, whispering. Her eyes were wide in terror.

"Sorry. I had to do _something_."

"Nevermind that, let's go." We crouch-ran as fast as we could.

A few minutes passed before I felt the illusion begin to fade. I could only keep up something this big for so long. Wanda noticed it too, the water flickering around us.

"Do we need to stop running? I can take a break."

I shook my head, slowing my run. "No, no, I'm fine… Lord this is gonna hurt. I just… need to slow down a little." Rubbing my temples, I focused on the illusion, drowning out all other thought.

"Maybe…" Before I knew what was happening, Wanda was in my head, helping me focus. Trails of red drifted around her fingertips. The water stopped flickering.

I nodded. "Let's go."

About a half hour later, we ran into Vision, who had broken a few bots. He seemed like he had everything under control, but it was good to know that he wasn't too far ahead of us. I popped my head out of the water, waving at him.

Cape flowing behind him as he drifted towards us, I wondered if he could see through the illusion. "How close to the end do you think we are?" I asked as Wanda popped up beside me.

"We're nearly there. We're about three quarters of the way to the other side of the room."

"Good," Wanda said. "Maybe after this we can get some real food. I only had cereal for breakfast and I'm starving."

"Let's do this!" I said, ducking back under the water.

"Wait, Beth." I popped back up.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you make the illusion higher over your heads?"

I tried as an answer. It flickered, trying to raise. I shrugged, shaking my head. "I would, but once I get something in my head, it's hard to change. Maybe another time?"

And so it went for another ten-fifteen minutes or so. We stuck together, Wanda and I hiding beneath the water while Vision hid above the bots' heads, occasionally breaking them by sticking a hand through them. And then we hit the wall. It wasn't the same kind of metal as the other walls, and three panels were waiting for us. There were no bots in sight.

With a sigh of relief, I let the illusion come back to me, rushing into my head. I'm pretty sure that if Wanda hadn't been in my head I would've blacked out, but I didn't.

My head hurt like hell though.

" _Oooouch_ …" I closed my eyes tight, stumbling blind towards a panel.

I pressed the panel with a heavy hand, basically running into the wall. When I opened my eyes, both Wanda and Vision were pressing their panels. A loud _beep!_ echoed through the air, not helping my headache at all. Another _sssss-chink_ and the walls were gone, sliding into their secret places in the floor and walls. Pieces of scrap metal lay where Vision had broken them, and the surviving bots flew back into the wall.

"Is it over?" Wanda asked no one in particular.

"We finished early… You think they know we're done?" I asked, looking at them, retreating my hand from the panel. Everyone else took their hand off the wall.

Wanda stretched. "Vision, what time is it?"

"Almost ten. Perhaps we should go find them?"

"You think they'll be surprised we finished early?" I asked, smirking.

Wanda smiled. "Probably not. They most likely just said they'd check on us in an hour so we'd feel like we were finishing early."

"Party pooper."

We laughed as we strolled towards the entrance, Vision drifting casually beside us. I noticed he wasn't laughing. I was about to say something, but Wanda spoke up.

"Maybe you can try painting today. I could try too, but I've never been very artistic."

"Or maybe we could bake something? From scratch?" I glanced at Vision. "Maybe we _all_ could try making something?"

The Vision shrugged, a rare action from him. "Perhaps. I might have other business to attend to, but we'll see."

Wanda's laptop sat on the kitchen island, opened to , pinterest, and ten other cooking sites I didn't know about. We'd been searching for about fifteen minutes, and still couldn't agree on what to cook. If we did semi-agree to something, we'd check the cabinets and fridge and discover we didn't have all the ingredients. Amused annoyance filled the air along with the sound of Elvis Presley on the speakers.

"How about we just make a cake? It can't be that hard," Wanda said, scrolling down a page of various recipes as I checked the fridge and cabinets.

"We don't have flour. If my mom's taught me anything, you need flour in order to make anything with starch."

"I guess that means cookies are a no go too."

"And we don't have any fish or shrimp…" I shut the fridge angrily, 'Jailhouse Rock' playing in the background. "Who knew living here meant having, like, _no food_."

"Maybe we should ask someone…"

"Oh, wait, scroll back up. Is… that a recipe for no-bake brownies? I think we have some cocoa powder somewhere."

"Wait, it says that they're vegan."

"Who cares at this point! We've got to make something." I dashed to the cupboards, producing a pack of cocoa powder.

"I think we've lost the whole point of trying to cook something," Wanda said, taking some almonds and walnuts out of a cabinet.

The Vision strolled in. "Vizz! Just in time. Come over here and help us make some brownies." I said, throwing a pack of dates at him. "Wanda, find a way to get the almonds and walnuts pulverized. The recipe calls for a food processor, but I don't think we have one."

She pulled a knife out of a drawer and began chopping, muttering, "These are going to taste terrible." Vision looked at the dates skeptically, everyone standing around the island now.

"What am I supposed to do with these?"

"Uh… shoot, I guess we really do need a food processor for everything. I guess chop them up as small as possible? I'll get a bowl and start helping chop."

'Hound Dog' started playing, and we chopped and laughed to the beat. We talked about nothing in particular, laughed at our own jokes, and mixed the clumpy mixture up in a bowl. Vision was in charge of that, and ended up being the best at pulverising it, considering he had the fastest, most accurate cutting movements. Wanda poured the mixture onto a parchment-papered cookie sheet, sprinkling chocolate chips on top, even though technically we should've been using 'chocolate nibs'. After placing it in the fridge, we snacked on the leftover nuts, laughing at how terrible our brownies were going to be.

And then the Big Three walked in, screen doors sliding benevolently out of their way. Their faces were grave, and I could just tell something was wrong. The way they walked, they way Tony no longer smiled, the way Steve stood rigid in his place. The way Natasha seemed fiercer than normal. My smile fell, and we all went over to greet them, Wanda turning off the music.

"Avengers…" Steve said. "Tony's been contacted."


	4. Chapter 3 Family Fun Frick

**Chapter 3~ Family Fun... Frick**

Everyone was silent for a few moments. I was behind both Wanda and Vision, and I couldn't help but feel a little left out. I tried listening to what they were saying, but I just kept thinking about how happy things had just been. We'd been making brownies. _Brownies_ for God's sake. We'd been laughing. Why'd Tony have to be contacted? Why couldn't we just keep laughing? We hadn't even tried our brownies yet! I knew it was silly… but it felt normal. And normal was sometimes nice.

"...We're departing in a couple hours. The new coordinates are only a few countries away from Iran…" Captain America was talking.

"We want Wanda and Vision to come with us now. The new coordinates are completely uninhabited. Beth, you and Hawkeye will work together on Physical Defense. We should be back in a few days, a week at most," Natasha said. "Hawkeye will arrive tomorrow, by noon. Be ready for him."

I nodded, walking back to the kitchen to clean up. They even got me a babysitter! No offense to Hawkeye of course, Clint was awesome. But still, it stung a little. In the whole time I'd been here, I'd never truly been an Avenger. I knew I was unprepared, but… couldn't I at least ride along in the jet? Watch from a distance? Listen to them talk over the ear pieces? Did they just not trust me? Or was I just too insignificant? Before anyone could notice, I muffled a few angry storm cloud illusions, hiding a blush.

"...Everyone, get ready. We don't know what we're getting into. It shouldn't be anything more than we can handle, but be prepared to give it your all." Steve ending with a nod of his head, they parted ways, Wanda leaving to get protective gear on, and Vision following Steve and Natasha out the door.

It was just me and my thoughts now, standing alone in the empty common room.

I grabbed a washrag, and began cleaning off the crumbs from the counter space. _So much for being an Avenger_ , I thought, unintentionally casting a few rainclouds in the air. They were gray, almost cartoonish, and looked incredibly soft. Large rolling drops of water dripped to the floor, soundless. When I reached out to touch one, it moved as if it was real, but I felt nothing. I imagined touch, but it was nonexistent. Was it just me or had the lights turned a shade dimmer than usual?

Shaking my head, I collected the images, and went back to trying to be an Avenger.

That night, I had a dream. It was terrible. Everything was spinning around like crazy, Wanda was hurt, Steve was gone, Natasha was captured, Tony dead. The Vision wasn't anywhere to be seen. Someone was laughing in my face, spinning, spinning, round and round. When the spinning stopped, fear stuck and arrow through my heart. My sister, bound and gagged. My father, tortured and beaten. My mother, sobbing and bloody. I was screaming and crying and oh Lord what was happening? Where was everyone? Everything was spinning again. My head hurt like hell, and suddenly I was bobbing up and down in a river, struggling for air, my vision still spinning. I tried screaming, but the water filled my lungs.

The nightmare flashed into reality when I woke up, water filling my room, as I struggled against my bedsheets. I coughed and spluttered, sucking the nightmare back into my head as fast as possible, landing with a thump against the floor. Everything in me told me that I had to get water out of my lungs, but there was nothing to vomit except last night's feeble dinner. Despite what my brain was telling me, I successfully kept myself from throwing up, but not after having a full on panic attack. I was sweating a lot, and my head still hurt.

For a good ten minutes I just curled up on the floor in shock, eyes wide open. There had been only a two other times when nightmares had overcome me. But not like this. This had to do with recent events. This had _my family_ in it. This one was personal. My dreams are almost never personal like this. My mind was racing. Of course, I knew it meant nothing. I was stressed. But part of me wondered if I'd seen a prophecy of some sort. A vision, so to speak. How could I keep my family safe? _No one's going after my family._ I had to rationalize my thoughts. _My family is no longer affiliated with me. No one will ever know who they are in relation to me._ No one.

 _No one, no one, no one!_

Relenting to the cool air in my room, I stood up on shaky legs. My morning routine began again: shower, refresh, dress, eat. But this time, I was alone. Munching on bland cereal, alone in the quite sudden vast emptiness of the common room. More alone than usual. Shock still reverberated in my mind, but I knew I had to get over it. I was an Avenger, damnit! I _had_ to get over it. If not, who knew where I'd end up. I had to be strong. For the Avengers, for my family, for my friends, for the world… for me.

Opening the fridge to put the almond milk away, I saw the brownies. Man, they looked absolutely terrible. Chunky, half-frozen dirt is what it was. It manifested itself as the most unappetizing thing in the fridge. I sighed, placing the milk on the shelf and closing the door. It probably tasted fine, but I was not eating that. Not for breakfast anyway.

My usual routine continued with a light jog around the headquarters. The physical exercise had definitely taken some getting used to when I came here. For most of my life, I've been a pudgy little nerd, probably still am. But the first day I became an Avenger, I had to get used to getting fit. After my jog, I continued with my exercise, failing at push ups and doing an amateur amount of sit ups. After that though, I decided to attempt painting to cool down before I met with Hawkeye.

I was still kinda surprised the Avengers even had paints in this place. Granted, they weren't great paints, and I'd had to travel to a town about sixty miles away in order buy some sort of canvas. But hey, beggars can't be choosers, right?

Unfortunately, this 'beggar' had no inspiration. No ideas. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. A bunch of colors slopped lazily together led to me giving up and watching TV for the next two hours before Hawkeye arrived. Let me tell you, being in the middle of an intense crime drama and having Clint Barton walk through the door is not something that happens everyday.

"Hey, champ."

I almost jumped through the roof, surprised out of my mind. Clint laughed, and I scrambled to turn the screen off and join him.

"Looks like somebody forgot about training with me today," Clint said, as we walked towards the training room together.

I shrugged. "Sorry. I got caught up with my show."

"Haven't you watched Criminal Minds ten times now?"

"No!" I said, surprised he even knew what it was. "I've only watched it over three times now. Get your facts straight."

We turned a corner.

"So… Clint. Did Natasha and Steve say anything to you about where they're going? What they're doing? Honestly this is all a little confusing."

"They're in the dark just as much as we are. All I know is that they were contacted twice with coordinates, both of which had impressive gamma radiation levels. It could be nothing… but I doubt it."

I mulled that over. Could this be the start of something new? Something was definitely up. I was hopeful it was just a lucky hacker who wanted to mess with the Avengers, but I knew that was pretty impossible. It couldn't be Ultron… he was defeated for sure. One hundred percent for sure. But still, something was up, and I was hanging out with Hawkeye like it was no big deal. When was I going to become a real Avenger? This was infuriating!

"Have you had any contact with your family?" Clint asked, holding a door open for me.

I shrugged, fighting back memories of my nightmare. "No. I can't. I… don't want to hurt them. They've gone on with their lives, or… they will anyway." I heaved a heavy sigh. "I miss them a lot though."

He nodded as we walked into the training room. Why were all the training rooms so darn big? How many Avengers was Shield planning on recruiting? Hawkeye threw his duffel bag to the ground with a soft _thump_.

"That's normal. I don't know what I'd do in your position, but it seems like you're handling things pretty well." He crouched by his bag, unzipping it with zeal. He began shifting through the items. As he did so, he gestured to a nearby punching bag. "In the next few days, I'm going to teach you the basics of self defense. We'll get to punching the bag in a bit. For now we'll use it as reference. Let's start with dodging." He took out some hand wraps, and tossed them to me. I was beginning to feel dubious. "I want you to get used to wearing those. Don't want to ruin your knuckles."

He stood up, putting wraps on his own hands. "First thing's first: The best defensive posture. Here, face the bag." I did so, not quite sure what I was supposed to do. Should I put my hands up? What was I supposed to do with my feet? I wasn't supposed to punch the bag yet, but I was standing right in front of it.

"Hold your hands up, in front of your face. Elbows close to the chest. Yeah, like that. Make sure your thumbs are on the outside of your fists. Good." I complied, brow furrowed.

"Are you sure this is going to save my life someday?" I asked, half sarcastic.

" _Positive_. Now put your chin down. Not that far- good." He stepped back a little. "That's the first half to a good posture. Now's the other half. When you're about to get into a fight, or need to dodge, make sure your base is wide. Spread your feet apart, but not too much."

I did so. "Like this?"

"Yeah. But now what you need to do is turn slightly sideways, right foot a little further back. Yeah, that's good."

I couldn't help but feel a little weird. This was totally out of my comfort zone. Just the prospect of fighting someone made me uncomfortable. _Anything_ with too much physical contact made me uncomfortable.

"Now, return to your normal standing position."

I relaxed, hands resting at my sides.

"Now I want you to alternate moving into that position fifteen times on the beat. And… Go!" He said, starting a metronome-like beat on his phone.

And so it went. I did end up punching the bag a few times, but really I'm no good at punching. I think I ended up hurting myself more than the bag. I dodged, I threw punches in the air, I was introduced how to take a punch. Never thought I'd get semi-punched by Hawkeye, but to be fair I had been dodging pretty well up till then. We practiced dodges of all sorts, and by the time we were done for the day, the sun was getting close to the horizon. The last thing he showed me was how to take a punch to the face by tilting my head so that my forehead took the brunt of it.

"All right. I think that's good for today. You go get some rest, and I'll see you tomorrow… first thing."

"'First thing' as in, like, seven or something?"

He chuckled. "'First thing' as in first thing. I'll get the intercom to wake you up."

I took off the hand wraps. "Okay… but you should be warned I don't do well with surprises. Unless they're good surprises. But I'm guessing this isn't a good surprise."

"Depends on how you look at it, kid."

I rolled my eyes. "Clint, you're impossible."

"That's the whole point of being an Avenger, Beth. We're all impossible."

That stopped me for a second. It made sense. By all means, none of us should exist. Steve should be dead, Natasha should be God-knows-where, Wanda should be a normal human. Heck, we shouldn't even have the ability to make things like the Vision! And me… I should've been normal. But somehow, here we were. Or, here I was. An Avenger.

But was I?

That night, as I was getting ready for bed, I wondered where my family was. What they were doing. Was my sister still into origami? Was my mom still into baking? Was my dad still into superheroes as much as I was? I hoped I hadn't caused anything too bad to happen to them. If anything, I hoped my disappearance had caused them to band together. I knew they were strong. I knew they would get through this. They had to get through this.

I walked back into the commons, feeling peckish. Maybe now was the time to try our crappy brownies. The fridge opened with a _chunk_ , and the brownies stared back at me, still unappetizing as heck. I pulled them out anyways, grabbing a knife from the drawer.

 _Maybe they aren't that bad..._ I tried cutting out a piece, but it promptly crumbled apart in my hands. What I did manage to keep in a chunk, I popped in my mouth. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the strange taste. It wasn't bad... it certainly had potential. But the chunks of nuts and dates were too big to mesh together, and the cocoa powder clung to everything. To be honest, the best part of it were the chocolate chips, but that didn't seem like it counted.

I glared at the brownies. Maybe someday we'd be able to make brownies the right way. As I put the brownies away, I thought that maybe I should go into town and buy a food processor and ingredients. That would be a fun surprise for when they got back. If they had time when they got back.

Out of the blue, an alarm sounded throughout the compound, jarring me to the bone. The glass doors at the entrance of the commons turned opaque, and larger metal doors encased them, sending a loud _boom_ in the air. I had no idea what was happening, what was going on, what the alarm was for. On a whim I ran into my room, closing the door as fast as possible. Heart pounding in my chest, I couldn't stop the illusion that a strange red cast shadowed everything, pounding with my heart. My phone was buzzing on the shelf.

"Clint, what's happening?" My voice was shaky and scared, definitely not superhero sounding.

"There's been an intruder spotted. They'll be apprehended soon enough. A few agents are coming your way, don't be surprised by them."

"But what about you? What are you doing?"

"I'm working on catching this son of a bitch. Shouldn't be too long... Beth, there's something I want you to do."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Go to the far side of the wall... the northern one. There should be a panel there. Red, I think."

Looking up, I saw it, an ominous red glow in the dark red room. I didn't have time to collect the red illusion, but it was definitely annoying. I pressed the panel.

"There should be an earpiece and a gun in there. We can stay connected through the earpiece. Try to avoid using the gun, but keep it on you just in case."

Just as he said, a tiny flesh-colored earpiece and an edgy-looking gun on a sort of platform slid out of the wall. I placed the earpiece in my ear, and held the gun.

"I don't think you need to worry about me using the gun, Hawky," I said in the earpiece now, half-trying to lighten the mood. I turned off my phone but kept it in my pajama pocket. What an inopportune time to be wearing pj's. "I've never used a gun in my life."

"That's fine. Just make sure that if you do need to use it, the safety's off."

"Okay. Um, which part is the safety?"

"...Look, I'm kinda busy right now, but when the agents come for you, you can ask them."

"Right. Okay. Please catch this guy quick."

"Rodger that, kid."

Radio silence. The gun was heavier than I thought it would've been, but it wasn't too heavy. I knew nothing about guns, so I couldn't have told someone what style it was. It looked pretty modern though. Not like one of those old fashioned western pistols. The Shield logo was pressed into the side. Did they put their logo on everything? I was pretty sure they'd put their logo on some of the walls and art installations in the compound, but I digress.

I got the panicky feeling again. _Should I go back into the commons? Where are the agents? Should they be here by now? Why did the alarm stop? Does this have anything to do with what the others are doing? What's going on?_ I tiptoed through the small hallway that led back to the commons, holding my breath and the gun, staying at the corner so I could hide if I needed to. At the very least I could throw the gun to defend myself.

The lights had dimmed for some reason. That couldn't have been good. I could still see, but it just made everything that much more frightening. Not to mention the red illusion was still beating to the rhythm of my heart, looking like some crappy video game effect. Okay, I could at least take care of that while I waited. I closed my eyes, and collected the illusion, taking a deep breath to calm down. When I opened them again, the red was gone. Everything looked much bluer now. Man, Shield really like blue. It made sense. Blue was a color of honesty. Even if they weren't honest with the public all the time, I suppose they could look the part.

The abrupt sound of running footsteps outside the doors rushed me out of my thoughts. I held the gun firmer, getting ready. I casted myself invisible, staying still as possible, holding my breath. Again, my heart was pounding my throat and ears.

The footsteps stopped, voices speaking urgently to each other in a whisper. The sound of buttons being pushed in rapid succession followed. I held back a shudder, feeling the hair stand up on my neck.

A disarming _be-beep_ rang from the other side of the door, and two figures moved in swiftly, door closing right behind them.

"DeHart, has Hawkeye contacted you?" One of them, a man, asked, running past me towards my room. I collected the illusion, and said.

"Y-yeah. But, seriously, what's going on? Somebody got in the compound?"

"Affirmative. We have our best looking for him right now," The other one, a woman, replied. "He managed to get away through the staff and service hallways."

They noticed that I had a gun in my hand.

"Don't worry, I don't know how to use this. I wasn't planning on shooting anyone tonight," I said, again trying to lighten the mood. I've never been much of a joker though, so they looked more worried than they should've been. Before they could say anything, however, I said, "So, are you the only two agents coming to make sure I'm safe?"

"We think so. A few others were assigned to be outside, but they may check in depending on how long it takes to catch this guy."

I walked over to the couch, sitting down, feeling heavy. The TV had been turned off, as had many of the other electronics in the room. The fridge was still running, and the main lights were on, but the microwave and the smaller lights had been turned off. _What was the purpose of that?_ I wondered.

I shrugged, sitting forward. "You guys want a drink or something? We have brownies."


	5. Chapter 4 Bright Beginnings

**Chapter 4~ Bright Beginnings**

The two agents and I sat in the commons together, me on the couch, woman at the counter, man at the glass table. They had declined from a drink or brownies. Logical, I suppose. Didn't want to get caught with something half-way down their throats. _Wow, that sounds like a euphemism for something._ I rolled my eyes at myself, yawning. It was about ten-thirty at this point. The clocks were still functioning, so that was cool. It would be good to see how long it would take for our nerves to unravel completely. I'd tried talking to the agents, but gave up after a bit. They were not talkers, and to be honest, neither was I. They'd said it was okay for me to go to sleep, but I knew sleeping wasn't an option for me at this point. I was too high strung.

Concern hung in the air. Clint hadn't said anything since he first contacted me, and I was too scared to contact him. I really hoped he was okay. He was one of the Avengers I felt like I could truly talk to, besides Wanda. Kinda like a nice uncle I never had.

My eyelids were heavy. I was _not_ used to staying up this late. Yeah, yeah, call me whatever you want, but I am not a 'night person'. I'm the person who can't go to parties because I'll be in bed by nine. I need my sleep. I like my sleep. Sleep is fantastic. No worries, unless you had a nightmare. And dreams were fun to have most of the time. No obligations when you were asleep. Nowhere to go, nothing to do. Just a nice time to rest and go unconscious. _Man, all this thinking of sleep is making me even more tired..._ I yawned again, tears welling in my eyes, unintentional of course.

"You know, we're serious when we said you can go back to sleep. You're in no danger with us around."

I shook my head. "I know. But I'd be too stressed out, you know? Knowing there's someone out there with bad intentions."

"In all honesty, he's probably already been caught. They might just be keeping things on lockdown for extra insurance."

"For real? Man, this _sucks,_ " I groaned. "Can't you get any update or something on your earpieces?"

The guy shook his head. "Since we're with you, we don't want any contact. If the intruder were to get an earpiece and contact us with it as an agent, we wouldn't know the difference. It's safer this way."

I didn't quite understand, but I went with it, shrugging it off.

"Do you know why someone would want to break in? I mean, yeah, it's the Avengers, and yeah, it's Shield... but just what would they want here?"

The woman shrugged. "It's impossible for them to know that the rest of the Avengers left. We made sure their departure was as quiet as possible. They could be some sort of terrorist wanting to get at us, but we would've noticed a bomb. Maybe an assassin?"

"Or maybe it's someone looking for information," The man spoke up now, fingers tapping his knee. "I'm sure Shield has some pretty serious intel filed away."

I nodded, eyelids drooping. Why did I have to be so tired? I was supposed to be an edgy, cool superhero, damnit! Not a tired, inattentive one. I closed my eyes, too weary to fight it. Maybe I could just take a quick nap, and everything will be fine when I wake up...

One moment everything was quiet, I was almost asleep, and the next, noise was everywhere and people were yelling. Everything was red again. Sudden movement in the room scared me half to death, not to mention both of the agents were yelling incoherently. Invisibility shrouded me, and I tightened my grip on the gun standing up as slow as I could. I inched away from the fight, eyes wide in terror. Then I stopped dead in my tracks, feeling the blood in my veins turn icy with dread. They were fighting _each other._ Both were fighting to keep the other from raising their gun. Without any self dignity, the woman chucked a board game at him, pieces flying everywhere. Somehow the glass table shattered. Punches were thrown and feet were flying. The woman pulled out her gun, but he grabbed her wrist and diverted the bullet at the last second. I couldn't do anything from where I stood paralyzed. I had no idea who the bad guy was. Woman or man? There was no way to tell. They both had Shield uniforms on. I had no idea!

That was until the man stuck something that didn't look Shield-approved at all in the woman's gut. I let out a startled gasp of terror. She collapsed to the floor, blood and foam dripping from her lips.

I paused long enough to realize I was stuck in here with a traitor. He looked around like a tiger searching the forest for prey... for _me_. My muscles were locked in their position, frozen to the spot. There was no easy way out of this. Only one of us would get out of here alive. For the sake of everyone involved, I _had_ to make that person be me. If I didn't survive... it would be a second death of mine for my family to grieve. Whether Shield told them or not. I glanced down at the gun in my hand, palms sweaty and shaky. It was invisible to him, but I praised the Lord I could see it. I closed my eyes. _God, please... keep me_ alive. It was a quick prayer, short and sweet. But I needed the courage.

"Elizabeth... I'm, uh, sorry you had to see that. You can come out now," he said. _Haha, not buying it,_ I thought, inching towards the hallway that led to my room. Maybe I could seek refuge there. I had to hide somewhere...

"Come on... show yourself." He was getting close, and he knew I knew what he was. Way too close for comfort. I had to do something to get him off my track! He was facing towards my general direction, but his peripheral vision was in the hallway. Maybe...

I created a sudden movement that resembled me running down the hall. He fell for it! I made a dash for the other end of the room with the hall leading towards the nearest room, ditching the illusions to do whatever. _Bad idea_. He saw through the illusion and made after me faster than you could say "Bucky Barnes bailed," feet thundering against the floor behind me. I didn't look back. I wouldn't look back. Looking back meant more terror and horror. Instead, I hurtled down the hall and slammed into the room, securing the door as fast as possible. I put all my weight against the door, shutting my eyes against the dark. Panic burst through my body when I heard him pull out his gun out, the deadly click letting me know where he was aiming. Without another thought my entire body flinched out of the way as a bullet penetrated the door's plastic shell.

The strangest noise broke out of my throat, and I moved again as more bullets peppered the door. A shock of pain told me that my left arm had been compromised. He slammed against the door. I kept it shut, clenching my jaw hard against the agony in my arm. Warmth that could only be blood dripped down my semi-useless appendage. Before anything worse could happen, I touched my earpiece and relayed my frantic message to Clint.

" _Clint come help me now! He's here!_ " My voice was hoarse from stress, but it was loud enough to be heard.

"On my way, kid," His voice was deceptively calm, yet urgent. "Don't suppose they showed you how to work that gun, huh?"

" _No!_ " Another jolt against the door nearly sent me sprawling, but I stayed put. " _Just hurry!_ "

"Rodger that." Silence again.

 _Cre-eak!_ The hinges were buckling against the weight being thrown against it. The door could only take so much more. I slammed my hand against the wall, trying to find the light panel. No luck. At this point my best chance would be to try and fumble through the dark and hide, but that didn't seem like it would end well for me. If only I knew how to shoot a gun! I was mad at myself for not asking. To be fair, one of them was an intruder or a mole or something. But still.

The pounding stopped all at once, and I heard him reload his gun. I swore. It would be now or never. I could only get lucky so many times. Gripping my arm I lurched forward into the dark, blasts of bullets spraying through the door. Another one of them caught me in the leg, another grazing my side. I swore again, but tried to keep silent, scrambling across the floor before the door fell over. I found myself behind a turn in the wall. My mind felt numb when I felt my leg, blood on the wrong side of my skin.

 _God I hate blood,_ I thought, holding back a shudder.

The door creaked off the wall, falling with an incredible noise. I was surprised to find I was still clutching the gun in my hand. A blue light shone on the floor, my blood staining the tiles. I held my breath for the one millionth time that night, and cast an illusion on me. For all intents and purposes, I was dead. My eyes were stuck open, blood seeped from my chest and stomach. To him, I was now dead. At least, that's what I hoped. I couldn't see this illusion, so I didn't know how effective it would be, not to mention I'd never seen a real dead body before. The man stepped forward into the room, sending my pulse skyward. He turned the corner, looking down at me.

 _Don't check my pulse, don't check my pulse,_ ** _don't check my pulse!_**

He crouched beside me. Of course he was going to check my pulse. He knew my abilities. He, whoever he was, had to make sure the job was done, and that I wasn't playing possum. His hand reached towards my neck. It was inches, centimeters, _millimeters_ away. I wasn't breathing at all at this point. The instant his finger touched my neck, I made myself pounce. My gun bounced off his head, a huge gash stretching across his forehead. He yelled. _I_ yelled. I tried hitting him again, but he caught my wrist and flung me across the room. I tried to get up but he sent a boot to my gut, a narrow miss to my ribs. I was too stunned to make an illusion, I could only focus on rolling into the fetal position, protecting my vitals and head. He kicked me again and again, pain shooting through me. _Why did he want me dead? What the hell did he think this would accomplish? A message? A threat?_ I had a bad feeling I would never know. A kick to my head sent ringing through my ears, red spots dancing in my eyes. Could he see those too? A kick to my back and I felt something creak. A kick to my legs and more pain followed the bullet wound. A kick, a kick, a kick, a kick... One could hardly call me conscious at this point. _Where the hell was Clint?_

In an instant, everything stopped. The pain was still there, but no more was being added. No more kicks. Just my ragged breathing turned sobbing. But there sure was a lot of noise. I opened my eyes. I hadn't even realized they were shut, not to mention tears were streaming from them. A familiar figure was holding the man up high, and the man was struggling with all his might to no avail. The Vision? I propped myself up on my good arm, clutching my gut in pain.

"What... What the _hell_ are you doi-" I coughed something out of my windpipe, blood on my fingers. "Oh my... oh my gosh..."

Clint ran into the room, just as surprised to see Vision as I was.

"Vision, what's going on?"

"No matter that right now. Beth is in need of medical attention... I suspect inner bleeding or bruising... A cracked rib as well."

The man who tried to kill me was swearing profusely now.

"I'll take this man to a holding chamber."

I sat in an infirmary bed, glad to be alive, eyes finally shut. The only reason I didn't let myself fall asleep was so I could listen to Clint who stood beside my bed. The doctor had fixed me up well... Nothing broken, thank God, but there was a lot of bruising, one of my ribs was cracked, and one of my vertebra had minor damage. The blood on my fingers had been from my bad arm, so yeah, false alarm about internal bleeding. The shot to my leg had missed anything too important, but I was going to need a crutch to walk so that the muscle could heal. But hey, I was alive! That was good enough for me. Even though it sucked to be in so much pain.

"Are you sure you feel fine?" Clint asked, arms crossed, a concerned look on his face.

" _No_. I'm bruised, blue and hurt all over. But I'm good. The doctor says I'll be fine."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there soon enough, kid."

"My regrets as well," Vision said, gliding, landing, and strolling into the room.

"Yeah, why _are_ you here, Vizz?" I asked, shifting in agony. "You're supposed to be with the others."

"I know... Let me explain." He sat down in a chair by the bed. Clint followed suit. "You see, we touched down at the coordinates around noon. Nothing seemed off, except for the traces of gamma radiation. I went first, so that the rest would not be negatively affected by the gamma waves. To put it briefly, at first I found nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. I was at the center of the radiation in the middle of the wilderness, and there was nothing. But then I looked down. Below me I sensed some sort of... machine or bomb I suppose, that was emitting these waves. It was underground however. I was flying at this point, and I decided I would land."

"Let me guess," Clint said. "It exploded."

"Indeed it did. I was able to phase through the blast, and the others were far away enough to remain uninjured. But it was an incredible amount of radiation. Much of the surrounding wilderness was destroyed, and some radiation entered the atmosphere." He paused, looking sad. "I'm afraid the radiation in the atmosphere fell on a village."

"Oh no," I said. What I did know about the Vision was that he hadn't injured any innocent bystanders in his previous assignments. I hoped he would deal with this well.

"So what, they planned on blowing you guys up?" Clint asked.

"I don't think so. Didn't actually. It was at that point that I realized our leaving was a decoy or a lucky chance at getting us all killed. I shared my findings with the others, and they agreed that I should fly back and make sure everything here was ok while they searched the area for Hydra agents. I was about halfway here when I received the news that someone had broken in."

I was a bit confused. "So that guy _for sure_ wanted to kill me?"

"Or scare you. If you lost the nerve to become an Avenger, it would mean less Avengers. It would achieve, more or less, the same as killing."

I nodded. It made sense.

" _Are_ you scared?" Clint asked.

I grimaced in place of a weak smile. "Yeah. Not gonna lie... I thought I was going to die tonight. But I haven't lost my 'nerve' if that's what you're asking. I, uh, guess in the future I'm going to have to deal with scarier people than that." It was too painful to shrug it off, so I grimaced again.

"Without a doubt. Just wait till you have to deal with someone like Ultron or Loki. Or a massive hoard of aliens."

"Clint, you're not helping me."

"Indeed. Barton, perhaps we should let Beth rest. She needs to heal."

"Yeah, yeah. You're right. Sorry. Rest up, champ. I won't make you get up first thing tomorrow."

"Psh. _Thanks_."

I slept for a long time. A hoard of dreams dashed through my head, and I forgot every single one of them. I guess that's just how things work sometimes. I was grateful for that, as I didn't want to wake up to any nightmares, but, when I did wake up, I was halfway across the room from my bed, leg about ready to crumble beneath me. I huffed, and hobbled back to my bed, wiping weariness from my eyes. Of all the times to be sleepwalking, this would be the time. Of course. So logical of my subconscious. As I sat back in bed, I wondered if I would suffer any negative psychological effects. I mean, someone _did_ try to kill me. But I didn't feel any different except for the pain. Somehow I felt that I should pay attention to my thoughts and make sure I wasn't suffering from mild PTSD or something.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, I was shocked to see it was almost noon. Had I really slept in that much? That was rare of me. I was feeling it, too... my head was groggy and throbbing in pain. I suppose I never did collect the illusions from last night. They must've come back to me when I was sleeping. Believe it or not, that hurts more than collecting. That would explain my headache. The doctor walked in, scribbling notes on his screen thing. It wasn't an iPad or tablet... it was something more Stark-ish.

"Ah, good to see you awake, DeHart," He said, looking up from his notes. "I'll get you checked out of here in a minute. I have a few more patients to deal with." It was then that I noticed the other beds in the circular room. Other people were sleeping in them, looking to have been hurt worse than me. A few curtains were pulled around some of them, hiding their condition, but I could imagine. I even saw the lady who'd been there to protect me, unconscious, but alive. She survived? I was impressed.

A few minutes passed and a few nurses entered and exited the room, tending to other patients along with the doctor. By the time he got to me, I was bored out of my gourd, but he checked my status, gave me a crutch, and chucked me out of there ASAP.

Hobbling back to the commons, I couldn't help but notice the stares from agents passing me by. Sure, I was an Avenger... but was I really that weird? I suppose there wasn't any reasonable explanation for my powers. Some weird combination of science and magic, I suspected, but no one had ever told me anything about it. I guess me knowing would be a liability if I was ever caught and tortured or something. But in all honesty, they were probably staring because I was an Avenger with a crutch under my arm and bruises everywhere.

"Ah, Beth. There you are." I stopped and turned around to see Vision approaching from behind.

"Hey Vizz. What's up?" I asked, leaning on my good leg. My bad leg was pretty sensitive still.

"I was contemplating the use of your powers in an attack."

"Okay, call me intrigued. Whatcha got?"

"You have the ability to make duplicates of yourself, correct?"

"Correct."

"Can you make, say... an army? Not of yourself."

I thought for a moment. This sounded like a challenge. "Maybe? I'd have to practice. They would have to be clones of each other... a hundred unique individuals would be impossible. And they'd all have roughly the same movements, unless I had a view of all of them." As I was thinking out the logistics, we were walking, Vision slowing up so I could walk without hurting myself. The Vision paused and nodded his head behind us. Glancing back, I realized I'd made about ten rows of men in a generic military uniform. Their faces were emotionless, bland, and they all looked a bit like mannequins. A few Shield agents were spooked out of their mind before I collected the illusion with haste.

I smiled, looking at Vision. "Yeah, I can do it."

"Good. That could be useful in the future, as an intimidation technique."

"Right... say, when's the rest of the Avengers coming back?"

"They calculated tomorrow, midmorning. Why?"

I shrugged. "Just thinking about what I'm going to do till then. I suppose I could try cooking something else... or watching a movie. Do you have stuff you gotta do, or would you wanna join me?"

"I have nothing on my schedule. I suppose..." He looked like he had something on his mind.

"What do you suppose?" I asked, prodding him with my elbow.

"Well... you see, I have all this data stored in me. Memories, information, thoughts, and whatnot. What I don't have are experiences. Ever since I was born, I've had things to do. Good, righteous, important things... but..."

"So, you wanna see what life's all about right?"

"I suppose."

I smiled up at the robot-with-a-soul. "You know what? We'll start with the basics. I'll show you the best old musicals I can find. Yours truly grew up on old musicals. You heard of _The Sound of Music?_ Frickin' _fantastic_ movie. It's kinda long, but totally worth it. I have all the songs memorized by heart."

We entered the commons, chatting, and I sat on the couch, leg propped up on the coffee table as I tried not to think about how the blood was moving in my body. Didn't want to be squeamish watching my all time favorite musical.

"I wonder if we can buy the musical or something? I mean, I don't have any money. I think. Do Avengers get paid? Like, is this a job?" I shook my head. "Whatever. Who needs money anyways?" I fiddled with the remote, going to a special screen on the TV where you could browse movies. Vision sat down beside me, still sitting in his weird super-straight-posture way.

"How did you come about this musical?" Vision asked as I pressed the 'rent' button.

"Oh... It was only the first movie I ever sat through as a kid. I guess it just kinda stuck with me after that. You think there's any popcorn around here? _I'm starved_ ," I said, realizing I hadn't eaten in a millennia. Or a few hours, big deal.

I pressed the play button after Vision returned with a bowl of popcorn. Watching that movie felt like the most normal thing I'd done in ages... even if it was with an android. But he laughed with the jokes along with me, made little notes about the story and characters, even asked a few questions about the songs. I think the fact that people sang at random confused and bemused him a bit, but he went along with it. About two hours later, the popcorn was gone (Having been eaten by only me, as he hadn't had any) and the movie was over. We were talking about it in detail, making fun of its outdated-ness, but enjoying the songs and moral themes. The Nazis in particular piqued his interest, considering we as the Avengers were going up against 'neo-nazis' ourselves.

All in all, I think he had a blast. I know I did. For the rest of the afternoon we watched old musicals, including such gems as _Seven Brides for Seven Brothers_ , _The Music Man_ , and last but not least, _Singing in the Rain_. By the time we finished, I was wiped out, and he could see that. With a delayed parting, I staggered off to my room, got ready for bed, and went to sleep with a smile on my face. I felt normal again.


	6. Chapter 5 Arguable Assembly

**Chapter 5~ Arguable Assembly**

The next day I was awakened, rather late, by an eager knock at my door. Sun was brimming from the window, casting warmth into the room, which was a cluttered mess. Clearing away any dream remnants, I reached for my crutch, telling whoever it was to come in. To my ultimate surprise, Wanda appeared. She looked absolutely perturbed.

"Oh my God, Beth are you alright?" She asked, rushing in to help me reach my crutch. I waved her away, rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

"I'm fine... ouch!" I'd forgotten that my arm had been shot and had stretched it painfully. "No, really, I am fine. Wanda, please, you don't have to fuss over me." She continued to fuss, grabbing my robe for me.

"Beth, someone tried to kill you! Of course I'm going to fuss!"

I sighed, watching as she started picking up clothes and other such items. She was a good friend. A great friend. I wondered if she'd ever known anybody outside her brother, may he rest in peace. They had been awfully close. It must have ruined her when he was killed.

"Wanda, what are you doing here? I thought Vision said you'd be back by mid morning."

She laughed. "It is mid morning, sleepy-head. What, don't look at me like that! It's not my fault you slept in."

I shrugged, shaking my head. "I guess I wasn't planning on going for a run today anyway. How'd the mission go?"

"Besides having to help clean up a small village and search for Hydra agents that weren't there? Piece of cake." She picked up the painting I'd thrown together two days ago, looking at it with a dubious smirk. "I see you've tried taking my advice."

I sprang up on my crutch, making a grab for the painting. This time she let me have it, but I had a feeling it was because I was injured. My face flushed, embarrassed that she'd seen that piece of crap.

"It's... not done yet. No need to look at it anymore than you have to," I said, tossing it on my bed and limping towards the door. "Besides, I need some breakfast. All I had to eat yesterday was some popcorn."

"Popcorn? Oh, right. Vision said you introduced him to some old musicals. How was that?" She inquired, tailing me as I made my way to food.

Shrugging, I put some toast down. "It was fun. He seemed to enjoy it. It was nice rewatching a lot of those musicals... very nostalgic. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Watching those musicals felt normal. For the second time since I've been here, I felt the way I used to be. Normal and happy." I leaned on the counter, holding the crutch to my chest.

"That's good. Maybe we could watch them together sometime."

I brightened up. "Yeah! That would be awesome. Have you seen any of the old american musicals?"

"No. I've heard of some of them, but the most entertainment I grew up with was a few books, cartoons, and some games. But... Pietro and I had to give that up after..." She frowned, looking as if she was mulling things over.

"Well, we can start with The Sound of Music, if you have some time. Today maybe?" I tried changing the subject ASAP, knowing she was still upset about her brother's death.

"Maybe. I was sent to get you… Steve and Natasha need you for something. You should get dressed, it sounded important."

"Important?" I said around a mouthful of toast.

"They want you present for an interrogation. They may ask you to speak with the jerk who tried to kill you."

I froze for a tiny imperceptible moment. _I have to talk to that guy? I have to look at his face? I have to ask him questions? I have to be in the same room, breathe the same air, and make eye contact with him?_ Images flashed through my head of all that had happened. The kicking, the pain… the ache in my chest grew a little tighter.

"...Uh, but I don't think they would do that. Not yet anyways," Wanda continued, seeming as if she was trying to direct my attention elsewhere.

I nodded. She must have looked into my mind again. Damnit! Was there no privacy with her? But I couldn't stay mad. Heck, I couldn't even start to be mad. She meant well, and I knew it. Wanda was a great friend. She wouldn't do anything she thought would destroy our comradery.

"Besides, he won't be able to hurt you if you do talk to him. Steve and Natasha will be there."

She was right. I was overthinking things. Everything was going to be fine… stressful but fine. "Thanks. I'll be on my way in a minute."

Behind the glass window, the man sat. He'd been stripped of his Shield uniform and instead wore a white overall-suit… something like what a prisoner would wear. Handcuffs kept him chained to the heavy metal table (heavy metal as in it looked heavy and was made of metal, not the music). His formerly neat black hair was unkempt and he looked like he'd been through hell. Standing next to Natasha, I knew I shouldn't have felt bad for him. But standing beside Steve, I couldn't help but wonder.

"We just want you to watch the interrogation, and be ready if we need you. There is literally no way he can get out." Natasha's words only helped slightly. I had a feeling I'd be talking to him later. Leaning on my crutch, I watched as both Natasha and Steve walked into the room, doorway scanning their identities as they entered. No one said a word. Natasha sat down, opposite the man, while Steve stood, pensive and stoic, in the corner behind him. He glanced at the super spy, at the table, at the mirror, shifting uncomfortably.

"I suppose you know why you're here, 'Arnold Jackson'. Tell me, is that your real name?" Natasha began, looking uninterested at his file.

"No way of knowing for sure, is there?" He said, voice quiet. He knew he was in trouble. That much was obvious.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, glancing at him, reading every twitch, breath, and lack of movement like a book. "Then I'm right in assuming that you aren't a Mr. Jackson at all. Interesting." She made a show of elaborately licking her thumb and flipping through to a page in the file. 'Arnold' was squirming like a worm on a hook. Maybe I wouldn't have to talk to him today.

"So, let us take a look at your record. Worked with the FBI for an impressive fifteen years before being recruited to Shield. Worked with Shield, up till you threatened the life of one of the Avengers. What I'd like to know, 'Jackson', is during that time, when did you decide to work for a third party?"

He stopped squirming and sat up straight, slow, as if he was sizing her up. "I've never belonged to anyone." The defiant smile on his lips vanished when Captain America hit the back of his head.

"Who exactly do you work for, Mr. Jackson?" The Black Widow said, voice serene and deadly as a swan. "We need specifics."

"That's none of your business, _bit_ -" Another blow to the head shut him up. " _Ow!"_

"Be respectful, _son,_ " Steve said, playing on the ol' born-in-another-century thing a bit.

Arnold muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his head. "Look. Even if I did tell you I worked for… I don't know, _Russia_ , or something, it wouldn't do you any good. My people are determined."

"Your 'people'? You ever stop and wonder what your people might do to you if they found out we discovered your little ruse?"

"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore. I won't speak to anyone here."

"Do you work for Hydra?"

He was silent, but glared at her.

From there on, he refused to speak. Whatever questions, queries or quiffs were thrown at him, he stayed silent. He ended up with a black eye and several bruises, a dribble of blood indicating a fractured nose. I tried my darndest to not feel sorry for him. An hour passed, and they left with a, "We'll be back, don't get too comfortable."

The door locked behind them, Natasha looked at me, shaking her head in disappointment. "Looks like we'll need to try sending you in, DeHart. We'll give him some more time to wait, see if that helps. I think seeing you alive and well will break away at his will a little."

I nodded, but inside I was very afraid. Both Natasha and Steve could see that.

"Like I said earlier, there's no possible way for him to hurt you or get away," Natasha said, handing me the file on the would-be murderer.

"I know. I just can't stop thinking about… how afraid I was. And…" My voice was halting. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I was safe. Perfectly safe. It was only anxiety and trauma. Big things, yes, but I could get over them. I was strong. I _had_ to. Another deep breath, and I looked at them, determined.

"I can do it. Is… someone else going to be in there with me?"

"I'll be accompanying you," Steve said. "Natasha will be in here, watching everything."

Nodding, I steeled myself for what was to come. "What do you want me to say?"

"Emphasize how he failed his mission to kill you without insulting him. Even if that wasn't his mission, it might get him arrogant enough to say otherwise. If you personalize yourself as a human being and not some mission objective, that could crack him a little too. Introduce yourself, try to be friendly. But don't invest in him. If he doesn't talk at first, try to make him feel like you forgive him, you understand him. I'll be guiding you from here through an earpiece, so as long as you follow my directions you should be okay."

Sitting across from someone who'd tried to kill you a few days earlier is a pretty surreal experience. I knew he couldn't hurt me here. Knowing that he'd tried and failed and now I was in front of him felt a little strange… awkward, even. Nothing in my life had ever prepared me for a social exchange such as this. There were no social norms to be had in this sort of happenstance. Should I feel a certain way? Should I despise him? Should I want to ask him why? Probably. But a little spider in my ear was telling me to ask him how he's been doing.

"How you been, Arnold?" I asked, channeling my inner interrogationist, and exhuming my inner confidence from the crypt within.

He didn't say anything, didn't even look at me. That was good. Either meant embarrassment or guilt or both. I could work with that. I glanced at Steve for a bit a reassurance, and plowed on.

"Gotta say, you sure caught me off guard, Arnold. Who would've thought that the guy who broke in had enough time to change into a disguise?"

Still no response.

and trauma. Big things, yes, but I could get over them. I was strong. I _had_ to. Another deep breath, and I looked at them, determined.

"I can do it. Is… someone else going to be in there with me?"

"I'll be accompanying you," Steve said. "Natasha will be in here, watching everything."

Nodding, I steeled myself for what was to come. "What do you want me to say?"

"Emphasize how he failed his mission to kill you without insulting him. Even if that wasn't his mission, it might get him arrogant enough to say otherwise. If you personalize yourself as a human being and not some mission objective, that could crack him a little too. Introduce yourself, try to be friendly. But don't invest in him. If he doesn't talk at first, try to make him feel like you forgive him, you understand him. I'll be guiding you from here through an earpiece, so as long as you follow my directions you should be okay."

Sitting across from someone who'd tried to kill you a few days earlier is a pretty surreal experience. I knew he couldn't hurt me here. Knowing that he'd tried and failed and now I was in front of him felt a little strange… awkward, even. Nothing in my life had ever prepared me for a social exchange such as this. There were no social norms to be had in this sort of happenstance. Should I feel a certain way? Should I despise him? Should I want to ask him why? Probably. But a little spider in my ear was telling me to ask him how he's been doing.

"How you been, Arnold?" I asked, channeling my inner interrogationist, and exhuming my inner confidence from the crypt within.

He didn't say anything, didn't even look at me. That was good. Either meant embarrassment or guilt or both. I could work with that. I glanced at Steve for a bit a reassurance, and plowed on.

"Gotta say, you sure caught me off guard, Arnold. Who would've thought that the guy who broke in had enough time to change into a disguise?"

Still no response from him. Maybe another angle would work.

"I just want to let you know that I won't take a couple fractured ribs personally. I'm just glad to be alive, ya know?" I chuckled a bit. "You know, I remember when I was younger I loved to imagine being a spy, and fighting bad guys. And I'm sure you don't see yourself as a bad guy. Heh, never knew the fight would be so one sided though."

He snorted. _Thank God, a response._ "Look, Arnold. I don't care what you were sent here for, or if you have your own agenda." My throat was really dry all of a sudden. "I couldn't care less. I just want to know: why _me?_ " The spider in my ear spoke up: "Good, but we need to know who he works for-"

Arnold shifted. "You're special. More than anyone here knows."

Silence. What was that supposed to mean? Of course I was special, I could make illusions out of thin air with no scientific explanation. I was an Avenger for Pete's sake! Steve seemed curious as well when I glanced at him. I took a steady breath and continued.

"What do you mean, 'special'?"

"You…" He seemed uncomfortable, glancing at the mirror and the cameras. "Aren't alone."

I felt chills go up and down my spine, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.

"W-who said I was alone to begin with?" I repeated Nat's words, heartbeat quickening.

His unease was beginning to fade away, and I wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad sign.

"There are others like you."

"What, others who can make illusions?"

"Others. That's all I can say… You aren't alone. You're one of many. And your people need to die, according to my people."

"Who? _Who are your people?_ " I asked, a lot more harsh than I intended.

"It doesn't matter. My people are gone. _I_ am alone."

I had a feeling he was telling the truth. I nodded. "I'll take your word for it, Arnold. Don't make me regret it." I stood to get up and regroup with the others, but he stopped me, speaking up.

"No promises."

"Something doesn't make sense," Natasha said, watching the man through the mirror.

"Tell me about it. He's stalling, or keeping something from us," Steve said.

I watched without a word, mulling what he'd said over and over in my head. Special? Sure. Not alone? Why not. Need to die? _Why?_ What good could come of my death? Something still felt off about this whole situation.

"Maybe there's something he said that'll give him away. 'More than anyone here knows'... that's a pretty strange thing to say," Steve said. "Is there something about Elizabeth that we don't know?"

I held my hands, saying, "I know as much as you guys. Actually, _less_. No one's told me anything, and I think it's better I don't ask. I don't know what you guys know."

" _Oh no._ " Steve and I looked at Natasha, whose face was stark white.

"What?"

"What is it?"

"' _Who would've thought that the guy who broke in had enough time to change into a disguise?'_ … He's not the intruder. He's worked here. God, I'm an _idiot!_ The intruder's still in here!"


	7. Chapter 6 The Masks We Make

**Chapter 6~ The Masks We Make**

Natasha was headed to set the place into lockdown, and Steve rushed me down the halls towards the commons, both of us running as fast as we could. He was quite a bit faster than me however (Especially considering I was in pain and had abandoned the crutch), and I kept on tripping over my own feet, out of breath. We kept on getting stares from those who had no idea what danger we were in, if it was still a threat. Honestly we were just trying to be safe. Were we safe? How long had it been since the intruder had got in? Had he stayed or just snuck out? What had the intruder wanted anyways? _What the hell was happening-_

I had just tripped again, when Steve caught me by the back of my shirt, causing me to gag.

"Sorry. We're almost there."

"I - _gack!_ \- know. You know, the doc's not going to be happy about me _running_ on my leg that got shot, Mr. Super-serum-guy," I said, rubbing my throat where my shirt had caught.

"Sorry! Why didn't you grab your crutch?"

"It seemed like we were in a hurry! Ack-" Another trip, another sore throat and leg. "I'm going to have to rest up a lot. _Shit,_ I think my wounds are bleeding!" I paused, seeing the red spots on my pant leg. And my shirt! Dammit.

"Damn. Okay, I guess we don't need to run, but let's keep going."

Turning a corner, we nearly collided with Clint. "Holy shit, what's going on?" He said, seeing the blood first.

"The guy we caught isn't the intruder. Nat's getting the place on lockdown so we can make sure if this guy is still around or not. Can you get Beth to the commons and help her with her injuries?"

"Yeah, right away."

I rolled my eyes as we started walking again. "You guys are talking like I'm an old lady. I can walk, my wounds just need healing's all."

"We know that, kid. You _are_ the baby of the group though, so sorry if we ever treat you like one. Here, let me help you."

"I got it, I can walk!" My stubbornness was beginning to show, hobbling in defiance even as blood began to drip down my leg and arm. Maybe I should put some pressure on that, wouldn't want to lose consciousness…

Even as I put a hand on the bullet hole in my arm, I began to feel dizzy and lightheaded, tripping again. Clint helped steady me as we neared the entrance, and I tried to catch my breath.

"Okay… maybe I do need your help."

Upon entering the commons we were greeted by Wanda and Vision, both of whom were sitting at the game table, playing a game of chess that Vizz seemed to be winning. Wanda immediately stood up and rushed over to me, Vision close behind.

"Sorry for interrupting your game," I said, looking for a place to sit down without staining something. No seats in sight. Wobbling where I stood, I just then noticed that Wanda and Vizz were helping me stand. I was just about to tell them that I could stand on my own when Wanda began to freak out.

"Oh my God, what happened to you? What's going on?"

"The guy who tried to kill her wasn't the intruder," Clint said, getting something out of the one of the kitchen drawers and rummaging around for a towel and a chair. Once he found those he had me sit down.

"You guys really don't need to worry about me. I was running and I forgot my crutch so my wounds reopened. It's not that bad, reall- _ouch_!" Glancing at what Clint was doing, I realized he was using scissors to get to my wounds, and was dabbing at them with some sort of liquid. "Oh come on! Those were my favorite pants."

"You didn't get your crutch? Why were you in such a hurry?" Vizz asked.

"The intruder could still be out there, and they wanted me here as fast as possible-" I felt a tingling sensation in my head, and glanced at Wanda. "Hey, get out of there! Be patient."

"Sorry."

"What's going to happen now?"

"Nat's locking the place down so we can make sure the place is secure and see if the intruder's still here or not." There was a brief silence as I massaged my temples, trying to shake the headache I was getting. How had this gotten so hectic so fast?

"How was the interrogation?" Wanda asked.

Disguising a shiver of disgust as a shrug of indifference, I said, "Not bad. Not good. I had to talk to that bastard. I had to tell him I forgave him."

"Do you?" Vizz asked.

"Vision, he tried to _kill_ her! What do-"

"I… I don't know." I still wasn't sure what to think. Should I sympathize with him? Should I forgive him? Should I try to defend his actions? Heck if I knew. Taking a deep breath, I noticed that the room was silent again, and they were all looking at me. "What?"

"You shouldn't be feeling any remorse for that _jerk_ ," Wanda said, voice harsh.

"I know! I'm not. I just… I don't know, I guess… what he told me just makes what he did make more sense. He's the last of a group of people who want me dead." Using my brain, I gently skirted the whole, 'not alone' part of the conversation. It would be wise to wait to tell them about _that_ whole issue.

"So what? That makes his actions forgivable?"

"You don't deserve to be dead, Beth," Clint said, finishing cutting off my sleeve. _That was one of my favorite shirts too…_

"I know! I get it okay? I just… if you were the last of a group, wouldn't you want to uphold their values? Their beliefs? I'm just saying I'm not going to take it personally." Looking back, I still can't really see why that was so hard to understand.

"Well, whatever you do, don't go feeling sorry for the guy. He doesn't deserve it. Also you're going to need some more bedrest with these wounds. Wouldn't want me to cut up your pants again, eh?"

I closed my eyes, huffing a heavy sigh. "Yeah, yeah. Ugh, what time is it?"

"A bit after noon."

"Really? It feels a lot later. Huh." I began to feel self conscious, everybody looking at me. Now seemed like a good time to change the subject. "Um, well… I guess since nobody's going anywhere, does anyone want to watch a movie?"

The next few days were uneventful. While Natasha, Clint, and Steve and a select group of agents interviewed the staff to make sure they weren't the intruder and went over a couple days' worth of security footage, Wanda, Vizz, and I learned how to make taco salad, watched and rewatched musicals together and overall had a jolly old time. Sometimes Clint would stop by as well, but he was pretty busy helping out. I was surprised that Wanda enjoyed the Music Man so much. Maybe it was the songs or the message, she never really said and I never really asked, but we watched it about five times altogether. However, even the best musicals get a little boring after a few days.

It had been about three days since the interrogation when I found myself trying, to no avail, to beat Vizz at a game of chess. I've never been much of a competitive chess player, but I'd never been so determined to win a game that I was beginning to scare myself.

I was three moves away _at best_ from losing my queen. Half my pieces were off the board, and Wanda was very nearly about to have a laugh attack from the faces I was making. It didn't help that my chest and limbs still hurt from my wounds (Which were healing splendidly slow, if I might add).

"Are you going to move?" Vizz asked, head tilted, smiling. He _knew_ I knew this wasn't going to end well. "We can take a break if you want."

" _No._ Not in your life. I will go down with my blazing ship. I don't _care Wanda shut up!_ "

There was no helping her now, cackling on the couch. I moved my piece and left the rest up to fate. He moved a piece. I moved a piece. Moments later:

"Check mate."

"I hate you."

"Another game?"

"Oh, you are _on!_ "

Wanda was thoroughly amused… for the next two games. After that she ended up leaving, saying that we were a hopeless cause and something about having better things to do. I was getting bored too, but, dangit, I wanted to win! And I had an idea…

"So, what exactly do you do around here? Like, do you have a job?"

He moved a piece. "I don't have any job… not yet. As you know, I work with you and Wanda, and on a regular schedule I let Shield Agents study me. I have no use for money, so I suppose I don't need a job here." He paused, watching as I moved one of my pieces. "And unlike you, I don't need to exercise."

"You calling me fat?" Sarcasm's never been my forte, but he walked right into that one.

"What- no, of course not! I'm just saying that where your body can gain weight, I don't. I mean, you can also lose weight, and I don't do that either. Er… this is all sounding a bit strange isn't it?"

Laughing I shrugged off his confusion. "I'm joking, Vizz. Your move."

"Ah, right." Without hesitation, he moved his knight, taking one of my pawns.

"Oh, come on! How did I not see that?" Maybe my idea wasn't working. Exasperated, I took a long, dull look at the board and moved a piece.

"Perhaps you would benefit from thinking ahead three steps or so."

"I am… in a way. Okay, not really, but I'm trying!" Another move and another of my pieces off the board. "You know, I think this game is rigged."

"It does help that I have all the possible moves and advancements stored in my mind. Would you like me to let you-"

"No. N. _O_. I'm going to get this on my own. It might not be today, or the next, but someday… I _will_ beat you in a game of chess."

He chuckled. "I guess I'll take your word for it. I'm curious, have you been to the nearby town at all?"

"A few times, just to get some paints. Why?"

"I've never been. What's it like there?"

Smiling, I realized he hadn't really been out in the world, besides going on missions. "It's a pretty small town. Not a lot to look at, and the tourist traps are kinda junky. But it's got this homey feel to it… like you just want to go into one of the bookstores and read a book with a cup of hot chocolate for an afternoon. Or run around in one of the orchards and catch fireflies in the dark. There's a lot of mom and pop shops, not all of which are that good. But hey, they tried I guess." I moved a piece, not thinking about the game anymore. "I'd go more often if I wasn't so wrapped up in all the 'being a superhero' stuff, ya know?"

"I suppose." He was in quiet contemplation now, and I had no idea if he was thinking about the game or the town. I guess if I'd never been outside, I'd want a peek.

"Uh… I'm sorry if that, uh… didn't help."

"Hm? Oh, no, it's fine. There's really no reason for me to go into town. It would be an interesting experience, but… I can live without it." He moved his piece. "Check mate."

" _What!_ Ugh… I give up." I flipped over my king for him. "...For now. I think I need a break from all this chess. Hey, um… maybe when the lockdown's over, we could, er, I don't know, go into town? I, uh, mean, we should probably get a food processor if we ever want to make actual 'brownies.'" _Well that wasn't a flustered sentence. No, not at all._ I tried to ignore the blush that was reddening my cheeks, to no avail.

"I think that would be problematic, considering my appearance. But thanks for the offer."

"Oh. Right. Your appearance…" I furrowed my brow, thinking. _Maybe…_ "What if I could make you look human?"

He stared at me, stunned, pausing in putting the game away. He seemed genuinely surprised that I would offer such a thing, such a _gift_. And I wasn't even sure if I could do it!

"I mean, I don't know if I can, but-"

"You would do that? You would… try?"

I shrugged. "Sure. I don't want to get your hopes up, though. Making someone invisible while they move is difficult enough. I've never tried… _masking_ a whole body onto someone before."

He held up his hand, almost urgently. "Try now… just my hand. Make it look normal. Please, Beth."

I couldn't help but wonder for a moment where his sudden desperation was coming from, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions. A brief flicker and his hand was covered in skin, perfectly form-fitting to his own synthetic skin. Staring curiously at the change, he held his hand closer to him, flexing his fingers. The mask wasn't perfect- It was a second behind his actions, almost like it was lagging. It, and in turn _me_ , had to anticipate his movements, which was quite difficult. If I kept an illusion like this up for too long, I would have a serious headache. Like, super serious. Possible blackout serious. Even now I was beginning to feel it: a tinge of pain behind my eyes, neck muscles a tiny bit stressed, ears throbbing in a faint sort of way. I was about to say something when he looked back at me and beamed, absolutely ecstatic.

"Beth, this is amazing! I… I don't know what to say!"

I smiled back, ignoring the pain for a moment. "You're welcome. It's going to take some practice to get it perfect, and… you might want to wear normal clothes, 'cuz I am not going to illusion you anything… _else_." Before he could ask, I collected the illusion, clearing my throat. "I need a drink of water. Oh, uh… and maybe we shouldn't say anything about this to anyone else yet… I still don't know if practice will help."

He nodded, looking at his hand again. "Of course. I suppose I shouldn't be too excited. When is a good time for you to practice?"

Biting the inside of my cheek, I wondered if he could tell I was a bit uncomfortable. "Um. Well, I guess I could shorten my daily run once I get back into the swing of things. Until then, whenever is fine."

Before I knew it, he'd grabbed my hand, smiling still. "Thank you. Thanks so much. This means the world to me… If this works I can experience the world for what it really is. I can meet the people I'm trying to protect, explore the world I'm helping save. I can finally be a part of this place. Thank you, Beth. So much."

I bit back my flustered blush, and smiled. "You're welcome. I, uh, didn't know it meant that much to you. I'll do my best to make it work." And I meant it. Seeing the way just having a normal hand affected him, I knew this was something I had to do. For him. For me. It might hurt, but I was strong. I could do this. I had to.

That night, as I tossed and turned in my bed, I wondered what the following days would be like. Would we find the intruder? When would I be healed enough to run and learn how to fight again? Would Clint be leaving soon? How was I going to perfect Vision's mask? Sure practice helped, but I had no idea how much. Not to mention it would hurt. But every time I considered backing out, I saw that smile in my mind. So full of hope and happiness, innocence and excitement. And I knew I had to at least try. I'd draw the line at blacking out. If I passed out because of an illusion, I'd have to stop. I shouldn't risk my health.

I sighed, smiling. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that… I closed my eyes, preparing for sleep. I hadn't remembered my dreams lately, and I was glad for that. It was pretty jarring and confusing having to wake up to fragments of your subconscious mind. The only problem I'd been having was sleepwalking. The past few nights I'd wake up out in the middle of my room, or in the middle of tripping over something. _Beth, Beth, when will you learn to stop sleep-walking?_

" _Beth…"_ I gasped, eyes snapped open. Someone had said my name. Someone was in my room… or not? My room was empty. I paused, listening to my heart pound in my chest, and the emptiness of the room. Had someone said my name? I couldn't be sure.

" _Beth."_ There it was again! It had given me a heart attack, but my name had for sure been said. By thin air. Not me. Not a dream.

" _Follow me."_ As the words were spoken, I could distinctly sense them becoming more faint.

"Wait!" I grabbed my crutch and hobbled towards the sound, which had become a fairy-like chime, wafting through the halls. I limped after it as fast as I could, confused and barely awake. The passages were empty, void of life and light. Only the hallway borders were visible, illuminated by small blue lights. Onward the sound guided me, twisting and turning through the twilight hallways. Where was it leading me? Was a really awake? Why was it contacting me? Me, of all the people here, whatever this was was contacting me. _Why?_ Did this have something to do with what Arnold had said? Me not being alone but wanted dead?

All of a sudden the noise stopped. I was alone. The room around me was ginormous– one of the training rooms apparently. The one with the big windows that looked outside. Outside was a step below looking like a void. I imagined a small light drifting by my side as I stared out the window. What was going on? Surely I hadn't imagined all of that? Maybe this had all been a mixture of sleepwalking in my dream. That seemed the most reasonable possibility. The only thing that changed my mind was seeing the reflection in the window of the person standing behind me. Before I could whirl around to get a better look at the person, she'd placed a hand on my shoulder, staring at me through the reflection with dark eyes. She seemed older than me, and reminded me of an actress I'd seen somewhere but didn't really know much about.

" _Don't move,"_ She didn't say. Or rather, her mouth didn't move, but it seemed she was the source of the sound somehow. " _Don't speak. Just listen."_

Frozen to the spot, I could only nod in response, heart racing.

" _What the man said about you is true. There are others. And they need to die."_

"What?" It was a feeble response, and I had a feeling this wasn't going to end well.

" _Don't be too alarmed, Beth. Yes I know who you are. Be glad it's only me. I'm not going to hurt you."_

"Why? Why are you here? Are you the one who broke in?" I asked her reflection, stomach filled with a sense of dread. How could I trust her?

" _I am. Because of you. I needed to make sure you weren't like the others."_

"The others-" I was interrupted by a sudden blaring light, Clint and several agents piling in through the main doors. Whirling around now, I was face to face with the intruder, who was distracted by the oncomers. It was as if everything was moving submerged in honey, slow and dulled. Not thinking of the possible outcomes, I threw a punch at her temple before she could get away. She stumbled back, just as Clint got to us, holding the intruder with her arms behind her back. She glared at me, but the anger morphed into sorrow, understanding pity even. In an instant, however, we were all on the ground, ears bleeding as a terrible ringing screech ripped through the air. The pain was too much for me, blasting through my eardrums and sensitive nerves, and I promptly blacked out.


End file.
